the ineluctable modality of beams

Sitting in a pew at the funeral of Freddie Bates.
Tributes are being paid from the altar to those who helped Freddie in his final months.
The list is long.
Although they left out the ****ing cat.
"It's like the Oscars in here," I grumble soulfully.
Presently some oul ones in the pew ahead of me look around and fix me with efulgent smiles.
"They're thanking your brother the doctor," beams one.
"You must be so proud," beams another.
"Everybody loves their candy man," I beam back drily.